Dark Days
by sesshomaru15
Summary: A demon assumes the form of Grima Wormtongue to take over Middle-Earth. The Doctor and Amy are drawn into the conflict when the Cloister Bell rings, but the TARDIS crashes in transit, stranding them in a world unfamiliar-and very dangerous-to them.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I do not own Doctor Who or The Lord of the Rings.**

**Prologue**

Ten years had passed since the downfall of Sauron and the collapse of Mordor. Now the desolate land was teaming with life courtesy of the defeated foes of Gondor along with the help of the freed Nurn slaves. Rearing into the clear sky was the dormant volcano, Mount Doom, its slopes caked by river of dried lava. In the center of Mordor was a deep lake created after the earth had crumbled from the explosion of The Eye of Sauron.

Farmers were tilling the crops when blackness covered the sun, plunging the area into shadow. Looking up fearfully, they saw swirling clouds lowering toward the body of water, an intense wind generating massive waves. Streaks of lightning cleaved the horizon, peals of thunder following in their wake. Yelling hysterically, the farmers ran to join the other villagers who were staring at the twisting funnel that was sucking the lake dry, its liquid vanishing into the clouds. Violent tremors shook the ground, knocking people off their feet. Just as suddenly as the tempest had manifested, it disappeared, leaving everyone baffled.

One Man opened his mouth to speak, but before any words could emerge, a vast crack tore beneath him, sending him plummeting to his death. Hot magma rose swiftly to the surface, driving the villagers to seek safety, yet as they whirled to flee, the structures they had built fell into the fiery abyss. Cowering, they huddled together while the land melted around them until all that remained was the patch of earth they were upon. Rippling shimmers of heated air cloaked the area, making the Men pant heavily.

A jet of glowing magma abruptly shot into the sky, setting the surrounding trees on fire. Mount Doom rumbled loudly, forcing the villagers to turn slowly, crying out when the volcano erupted, spewing more superheated rock that rained on the landscape. Piercing screams caused everyone to cover their ears, flinching as boiling columns of magma rocketed upward, morphing into a winged creature that easily dwarfed the a Balrog. Training its crimson gaze on the terrified Men, it roared, revealing rows of serrated fangs. Wicked claws the length of two houses, dripping fire, raked the air.

"I require a human body," the demon snarled, bending its horned head, wings folded along its back. Snapping its face to the side, it sniffed, slowly grinning. "Excellent, it seems I have found a soul who was conflicted between good and evil. His love for a certain woman continues even after death, as does his hunger for revenge." Aiming a talon east, the creature began chanting, drawing a cloud of vapor to it, swallowing the substance. Shutting its eyes, it started to shrink, soon becoming the shape of a human.

"N-no, not him!" a Man breathed, trembling, hiding behind his friends. Feeling several blanks stares, he stammered the rest of his story. "Grima Wormtounge, former counsellor to King Theoden. Once while I was in Rohan, I saw him with Lady Eowyn, pinning her to the wall, fondling her. I-I know I should have told Eomer, but I was t-too afraid Grima would discover me and-" Words trailing off, the Man sensed a malevolent glare fix on him, making him shiver. Peering over one of his friends' shoulder, he found Wormtounge advancing purposely. Retreating, the villager almost tipped into the splashing magma pool. "L-leave me a-alone!"

"Tell me why I would do that?" Wormtounge purred, grabbing the Man by the throat. "So it was you that day, was it? You know, I seem to recall you telling King Theoden about my actions instead of Eomer." Dark eyes glinting, he smiled cruelly as his victim shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Good thing the king was unable to order my execution, but you are not going to be so fortunate." Baring his pointed teeth, Wormtounge dropped the Man, slamming his weight onto him. Positioning his claws above the heaving chest, he slashed down, hard, repeating the process twice, gore fanning into the air. Climbing off the prone body, he faced the remaining villagers, licking the blood from his hand. "I am afraid this is where you all perish." Vanishing in a puff of smoke, he left an ominous silence that was broken by the sound of the pillar of earth snapping to plunge into the magma.

**A/N: What do you think? Good so far? Horrible? Leave your insight in the review section, please. The Doctor and Amy appear in the next chapter which will be longer.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I do not own Doctor Who or The Lord of the Rings.**

**Chapter One**

"Fancy some music, Pond? We still have ten minutes before we reach Venisar."

"Sure, why not?" Amy replied tonelessly, lounging in the jump seat. "You got any Maximo Park? I've grown fond of their song 'Our Velocity'. Or perhaps Michael Jackson's 'Who Is It'." Examining her fingernails, she bobbed her head as the first chords of Maximo Park reverberated through the TARDIS. "Ok, how the hell did I cut myself so deep?"

"Let me have a look," the Doctor said, kneeling in front of his companion, probing the wound. "Maybe when the TARDIS landed, you stumbled and caught your hand on a piece of sharp metal. Already scabbed, so it's not too serious. Hold still, this might tingle." Pulling out his sonic screwdriver, the Time Lord pointed it at Amy's cut, using the energy to regenerate her cells. "There, good as new."

Nodding mutely, she folded her arms, chewing her lower lip. Finally, Amy relaxed, swaying her foot in time to the music. Quiet reigned while they both listened to the gentle wheeze of the TARDIS mingling with the songs. Shaking herself out of a daze, she got to her feet, freezing the moment loud gongs tolled. Recognizing what they were, Amy whirled to find the Doctor bolt upright, face pale. "Cloister Bells, Doctor. Why are they sounding? I mean, we aren't in danger, are we?"

"One thing at a time, Pond," the Time Lord answered tensely, reading various gauges rapidly, cursing softly. "The Vortex is destabilizing around us. Should we fail to get ourselves into a unaffected patch, we'll wind up God-knows-where." Extending his arm, the Doctor made to punch a button, but severe vibrations gripped the TARDIS, throwing him against the railing. Grunting in pain, he heard the engine's mechanics speed up, creating a harsh grind. Dragging himself to the console, the Time Lord managed to twist a dial, sighing when the pitch evened. "Phew, that was a close call-"

Before the Doctor could finish his sentence, the central column's weight ceased moving while the TARDIS' engine once more screeched, this time deafeningly, almost like the time machine was in agony. Amy cried out for him, hands covering her ears. Having been in this same situation some time ago, the Time Lord rushed to knock his companion from harm's way, but was too late. Unable to look elsewhere, he watched helplessly as the control panel exploded in a shower of sparks. Power fluctuated wildly then shut down completely.

"AMY! You all right? Say something!" Fighting the pressure of increased gravity, the Doctor made it to his unconscious companion and held her secure, waiting for the TARDIS to crash land. Jolted by the rough halt, he was bashed into the wall, Amy on top of him. Noting that the time machine was still vertical, the Time Lord hoisted her in his arms and walked to the doors, kicking them open. Laying her onto the soft grass, he inspected her body, alarmed at the amount of burns she had. Worst of all was the fact that Amy was not breathing. "Come on, Pond, don't you quit on me now!" Bringing his interlocked fists down on his companion's chest, the Doctor searched for signs of life. Preparing to repeat the process, he paused, grateful that Amy's eyes fluttered. "Thank God!"

"D-Doctor?" Hitching herself up on her elbows, she groaned and held her head. Mind overwhelmed from the pain of her burns, Amy collapsed in a heap, beads of blood dotting her skin.

Retrieving his sonic screwdriver, the Doctor scanned the TARDIS in hopes that there were reserves of hidden power. Unfortunately, nothing appeared, meaning the machine was dead for the second time in his life. A twig cracked behind him, alerting the Time Lord to the presence of others. Slowly raising the screwdriver above his head, he pivoted to discover six arrows aimed in his direction. "Easy, I'm a friend. I need help, my companion's badly hurt. Plus my...ship...is broken."

"Tell us how you came to this land," a tall blond man demanded, gray gaze unwavering. From inside the forest stepped another person who had a regal aura about him. Hastily bowing, the first man spoke in a professional manner. "Lord Celeborn, I was just in the act of questioning this stranger as to why he and his companion have trespassed in Lorien."

"Now hang on a moment!" the Doctor barked, gaining the attention of those present, not flinching when the arrows were notched back. "We aren't 'trespassing', as you put it. My TARDIS has malfunctioned, stranding us on this planet. And, no, I can't repair it because I am the last of the Time Lords." Coughing near his feet elated him despite his predicament. Quickly crouching, the Time Lord tilted Amy's head so she could breath easier. "Take it slow for now, Pond. You took quite a beating in the TARDIS, including the fact that your heart stopped pumping, but I fixed that small problem."

"Congratulations," Amy grumbled, shifting to a sitting position. "God, I'm surprised I don't have any gray hairs yet traveling with you!" Noticing the group of silent people, squirming under their stares. "Um, where-_when_-are we, exactly? Sure doesn't look like we're on Earth? Is this Venisar?" Angling her head toward the TARDIS, her face fell as reality hit her. "Oh, damn, we are stuck here."

"Wait, where have I heard the term 'Lorien' before?" the Doctor muttered, restlessly pacing, snapping his fingers suddenly. "That's it, this is Middle-Earth!" Hauling Amy to her feet, he gently hugged her, mindful of her burns. "Amy Pond, we've landed right where the War of the Ring was fought, a battle that ultimately defeated the Dark Lord, Sauron!"

Gaping at the Time Lord stupidly, Amy's brain made the connection to J.R.R Tolkien's popular novels. Lightheaded, she felt herself toppling, dimly aware that someone caught her.

**A/N: Second chapter is done. Third up soon.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I do not own Doctor Who or The Lord of the Rings.**

**Chapter Two  
**

Meduseld was finally back to the way it was, now that the shadow of Sauron had fled Middle-Earth. Citizens sold their goods in the open, voiced lifted gaily. Atop the mountain stood the Golden Hall where King Eomer protected his subjects. Dozens of brightly colored banners flapped lazily in the wind.

"Yes, well, one can never have too many daggers," one Man said, gathering his three knives, carefully avoiding their keen blades. Preparing to turn, he frowned, gesturing to the patch of dark clouds on the horizon. "I do not recall seeing those clouds a moment ago, do you? And the wind has picked up pace." The words had barely left his lips when a savage gust howled through the village, cooling the temperature. Narrowing his eyes, the Man was able to discern a figure riding hard for Meduseld beyond the open gates. "Fellow must be mad to travel in a storm like this."

"Someone ought to tell King Eomer," the stall's owner remarked, storing his wares in a leather sack. Yet before he could return to his house, the thick ribbon of black swiftly covered the sky, seemingly proceeding the rider as he entered the village, face hidden beneath a hood. Guiding the snorting horse to the middle of the square, a skeletal hand flung back the hood, a flicker of lightning haloing his visage. Mouth going slack, the older Man clutched his heart, feeling the customer grab him. "By the gods, it is Grima Wormtongue, the cretin who poisoned King Theoden!"

Hushed murmurs sounded while Wormtongue dismounted, hair whipping in the gale. "Tell me, who is the King of Rohan? Eomer, the brother of Eowyn?" An undertone of lust in his voice caused many to shudder, averting their gazes. "Yes, Eomer is King, I can sense it." Striding forward, Wormtongue headed for the Golden Hall, grinning at the paralyzed guards by the large doors. "I have simply come to visit the King, no weapons will be found on my person." Spreading his arms, he allowed the skittish Men to search him, continuing after they waved him onward. Laying his hands upon the oaken doors, he pushed them wide, words echoing in the main hall. "Oh, Eomer, how I have longed to speak with you."

"What-? How-?" Eomer leaned back in his throne, speechless. Those in attendance shrank away, remembering what Wormtongue had done to Theoden under Sauramon's orders. Flying to his feet, the King of Rohan unsheathed his sword, but it was clear he was shaking. "I-impossible, Gandalf told us you and Sauramon were dead! Reveal what trickery this is!"

"No trickery is involved, I assure you, Eomer," Wormtongue said smoothly, advancing. "Just know that there are forces in this world you are not familiar with, as I am about to demonstrate." Holding his hand aloft, it appeared that the light in the hall dimmed substantially. Eyes becoming red, Wormtongue launched up the steps to land in front of Eomer, hand latched around the Man's throat. Upon hearing a gasp, he swiveled his head, glare locking on Eowyn rooted in a doorway. Releasing the King, Wormtongue stepped closer to her, intentions clear in his maddened stare.

"Stay away from me, snake!" the blond woman screamed, spinning to run along the corridor, heavy footsteps shadowing her. Chest hitching, Eowyn ducked into an empty room and went to shut the door, yelping when a hand stopped her efforts. Leaping back, she cringed against the far wall, warily watching Wormtongue slip inside, locking the door. "Please, d-don't come any nearer! NO!" Wailing in terror, she saw nothing but black as he threw himself on her.

* * *

Groaning, Amy groggily opened her eyes, her whole body throbbing faintly. Rolling onto her side gingerly, she took a deep breath, the world twisting sickeningly. "Oh, I feel like I've been hit by a six-ton truck." A stifled snort from the corner gained her attention, where the Doctor sat next to a golden-haired man. Stealing a quick glance under the covers, Amy beheld that she was dressed in a white gown and a blush colored her cheeks. "Where are my clothes, Doctor?"

"I saw_ nothing_, Amy," the Time Lord uttered a bit defensively. "Galadriel, Celeborn's spouse, was the one who changed your clothes. You realize how hard it was to convince the Elves we weren't trespassing? One look in the TARDIS was all it took to get them not to kill us." Bounding to his feet, the Doctor plopped down on the bed, grinning cheerfully. "We may be stuck in Middle-Earth for a while, but at least we're in Lorien, not Mordor."

"Middle-Earth, Elves," Amy repeated weakly, heart pounding uncontrollably. Sensing this, Celeborn rose gracefully, an expression of concern on his features. Hastily waving him away, she wiped her eyes, jumping as the Doctor caught her arm, peering at her face. "Yes, why are you-" Cutting herself off, she was certain a dark mass had darted in front of her-one with wings. Beginning to tremble, Amy howled when powerful hands pinned her down, the fluctuating form of a Weeping Angel above her. "Not this again-! Three."

"Amy, no one else is here!" the Doctor hollered, he and Celeborn struggling to hold her bucking frame down. "Oh, that is what's happening, the Angel in her mind was dormant until now! Geez, I'm so stupid!" Reaching out, the Time Lord was about to force her eyes shut, but something tossed him across the room. "That's gonna leave a mark. Celeborn, tell Amy she has to close her eyes. Hurry, do it before she counts to zero!"

"Listen to me, Amy!" the Elf said loudly, placing all his weight on the woman. "You have to do what the Doctor says, lest this evil claims you." Breathing a sigh of relief once she did as she was told, Celeborn climbed off Amy, straightening his robes. "Tell me, why must she keep her eyes shut?"

"If she doesn't, the Angel will kill her," the Doctor replied, sinking into a chair. "Weeping Angels are a race that only move if not seen by another living creature. Should one stare too long, an Angel can literally enter their mind and slowly take them over." Massaging his temples, the Time Lord hung his head. "Looks like she's not going anywhere for quite some time."

**A/N: I just had to throw in that bit about the Angel in Amy's mind. Hope it didn't ruin the story, but if it did, tell me in the reviews.**


End file.
